Living in a county town, starting as a stock market maker...

It's late at night, 11 p.m.

Inside the joint laboratory of the Digital Life Project in cooperation with Harbin Institute of Technology.

Gu Ming stood in front of the central control console, staring intently at the 3D model of the virtual human codenamed Zero on the main screen.

The model itself is already very realistic; the texture of the skin, the quality of the hair, and the luster of the eyes are all top-notch in China.

But he felt the model lacked soul.

"Mr. Gu, look."

Professor Zhang Lide, with his gray hair, was in good spirits. He pointed to the rapidly refreshing data stream next to the screen with a proud look on his face.

"Based on our team's newly developed emotional logic calculation model, when the system receives the compliment 'You look great today,' Zero's pupils automatically dilate by 0.12 millimeters, the corners of her mouth turn up to a standard 15-degree angle, and her facial muscles simulate the dopamine parameters triggered in a state of pleasure. From the data feedback, this is a standard positive feedback expression."

Gu Ming thought to himself, this is not a human at all, but just a robot that has been pre-programmed at the factory.

Human reactions are often inefficient and imperfect.

He calmly shook his head.

"Professor Zhang, you're absolutely right. From a technical standpoint, there's no problem."

He then changed the subject.

"But this isn't a human being; it's procedural correctness."

Professor Zhang and the group of programmers around him were stunned.

Ignoring their astonishment, Gu Ming walked to the screen and began to describe it to himself:

"When an introverted and somewhat insecure girl is praised in public by someone she likes, her first reaction is not a standard smile."

"It's dodging."

His voice wasn't loud, but it made all the technicians present stop what they were doing.

"She will subconsciously look away, avoid eye contact with you, and may even nervously purse her lips or fidget with her hair to hide her unease and panic."

"Then, that joy will secretly slip out from the corners of her mouth and her eyes."

Gu Ming turned around, looked at Professor Zhang who was deep in thought, and said, word by word:

"Professor Zhang, what we want is shyness, that unnatural charm."

"What we need is a genuine reaction, not a cold, impersonal meme that's supposedly the optimal solution."

The laboratory fell silent.

A moment later, someone was the first to start typing on the keyboard again.

Immediately, the clattering of keyboard keys resumed, even more forcefully than before.

They began experimenting with injecting realistic reactions into the program.

……

It's 5:30 in the morning.

Hegang, the abandoned Second Gymnastics Hall.

Before dawn, industrial lighting was already on inside the building.

Sunlight streamed through the rusty, high windowpanes, forming beams of light in the air thick with the smell of sweat and dust.

"drink!"

A low shout.

Chen Mo stood barefoot on the cement ground and delivered a powerful side kick to the standing sandbag.

The 200-kilogram sandbag shook violently as she kicked it, making a muffled "bang".

Sweat soaked through her black training vest, running down her abs and dripping onto the non-slip mat, leaving a small dark stain.

Another drop of sweat fell.

Not far away, Gu Ming carried a Sony cinema camera with a daily rental fee of five figures, his eye pressed against the viewfinder, the lens aimed at Chen Mo's taut calf muscles from exertion.

This is exactly the image he wanted.

This body contains immense power.

With each exertion of force, the shape of the shoulder blade changes.

Sweat dripped down his skin, and veins bulged at his limit.

This is not just training, but also a way of demonstrating strength through the body.

Future viewers won't know how much sweat Chen Mo shed today, but they will feel this primal vitality through the screen.

"Liu Liu!"

Gu Ming called out to his assistant behind him without turning his head.

"Push those little heaters another meter closer to Chen Mo!"

Liu Liu, who was still feeling cold even while wearing a down jacket, shivered and looked on in disbelief.

"Ming-ge... the temperature inside the venue is almost 35 degrees Celsius. If it gets any hotter, he'll get heatstroke!"

Gu Ming's voice came from behind the viewfinder, very calm.

"What I want is for her to be on the verge of collapse from the heat, but still have that fierce, defiant look in her eyes."

"What I want to film is 'Steel Flower'."

"They're not plastic flowers from a greenhouse."

"That moment is the truly valuable scene in her character!"

Liu Liu stopped talking and silently pushed the several red-hot electric heaters forward a little further.

...3 a.m.

A slightly worn black Jetta drove through the deserted streets.

Gu Ming yawned, his eyelids heavy.

He had just dropped Chen Mo off at home, and then drove from the training center in the east of the city all the way back to the laboratory in the west of the city.

The song "The Ordinary Road" by Pu Shu was playing in the car.

He hummed a couple of lines, "I have crossed mountains and seas, and passed through crowds of people," and then couldn't continue singing.

too tired.

He felt overwhelmed, spending half his energy studying the facial expression parameters of virtual humans and the other half capturing the extreme moments of real human bodies.

Both my mind and body have reached their limits.

Back in the lab, the programmers were still working.

Gu Ming greeted them and then walked to his cot in the corner.

He didn't have the strength to take off his coat and shoes, so he collapsed onto the bed and fell asleep.

The programmers around them were used to it, but they all unconsciously reduced the pressure of their keystrokes.

In the darkness, Gu Ming's brows remained furrowed, and he continued to mutter incoherently to himself:

"...No...that's not right...that shift in your gaze...a little more from the angle..."

"...One more time..."

……

The laboratory door was gently pushed open a crack by a hand.

Su Qingying stood at the door, not quite used to the mixed smells here.

She came today because of a supplementary agreement regarding Skyhawk Capital that Gu Ming urgently needs to sign.

I thought I would see Gu Ming directing operations.

But what she saw was Gu Ming, curled up asleep on a simple cot in the corner, completely unprepared.

The green indicator light from the server rack flashed on his handsome but tired face, illuminating his sunken eye sockets and stubble.

Su Qingying unconsciously slowed her pace.

She walked slowly over, her steps very light, and stood by the bed.

This was the first time she had seen this side of Gu Ming.

At this moment, he lacked the composure he displayed at the negotiating table, and the sharpness he displayed when facing Shen Guodong.

He was exhausted and took a short break here to recharge for the next job.

Even though she's a few years younger than me, she seems to be carrying a huge burden of pressure all by herself.

Su Qingying's heart was touched.

A complex emotion welled up inside me.

There was admiration, curiosity, and a hint of heartache she was unwilling to admit.

It was a chilly night in early winter.

She looked at Gu Ming's thin jacket and his body curled up from the cold, and hesitated for a long time.

Finally, she made up her mind.

She took off her five-figure Chanel beige coat.

He bent down.

I was afraid of waking him up.

She gently draped the coat, which still carried her body heat and fragrance, over Gu Ming.

After doing all this, she breathed a sigh of relief.

She didn't leave either.

I walked over to an empty sofa not far away and sat down quietly.

By the dim light of the server, she quietly looked at his sleeping profile, trying to see through this man.